


When Lightning Strikes

by WinterWriter (Bebluvsnaru)



Series: Heroines of Marvel [1]
Category: Black Panther (Comics), Marvel (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Action & Romance, F/M, Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-02 06:50:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14539038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bebluvsnaru/pseuds/WinterWriter
Summary: Teenage Ororo Munroe discovers power and love as she travels through the Sahara Desert towards her ancestral home.A Storm Fanfic -just because...One shot.All characters owned by marvel. Same alternate universe as Wildstreak and Killmonger series.





	When Lightning Strikes

Ororo heard the thunder in the distance as she lay face down on the hot sandy ground. It had been five days… or perhaps six, since she left the car and the road, abandoning her dead attacker to the heat and the insects.

Through the hallucinations that resulted from heatstroke and severe dehydration, she could still smell the sick stench of his whiskey on her clothes. She was not even sure how she got out from underneath him. How she reached the rock that she used to bash in his head.  How she managed to stuff his dead body back inside of the car.  How she continued to walk through the heat of the desert for so long.  But she had been wandering ever since, wondering if she had already died and crossed through the gates of hell as punishment for her various crimes.

Finally, no longer able to take another step without water, her body collapsed where she stood. Her mouth filled with sand as she was too weak with exhaustion to even turn her head to prevent suffocation. Then she heard the loud rumble of thunder.  At first, she thought it was just another hallucination.  But then the sound came again.  This time louder...

A few miles away, a traveling caravan of nomads stopped to look up at the sky, which just a few seconds ago was as clear, blue, and hot as it had been for the last two weeks. Now a terrible storm cloud was filling the sky as though clawing its way out of and across the atmosphere. The winds picked up creating a dust up of sand.  And lightning angrily struck at the ground.

The nomads turned and frowned at each other. Just a half mile each way, the sky was still cloudless and blue. “What is this dark magick??” It seemed more like the act of a witch than of nature.

... Meanwhile, Ororo managed to turn on to her back just in time for the downpour to hit and soak her body. She spit out the sand and then opened her mouth, letting the water rush in. She took deep gulps and then she filled her hands and slurped up some more.

Having her fill, she lay down and enjoyed the cool water rhythmically drumming against her burnt skin and the soothing shade of the thick cloud cover hiding the hot sun. She thought how fortuitous it was that the rain came just as she was about to give up. Then she drifted off to sleep.

After a few hours, the rain slowed and then it stopped all together, but the clouds stayed above her, protecting her from the searing sun rays. Ororo continued to sleep deeply, dreaming of food and a nice warm bed.

By nightfall, Ororo was back up on her feet and moving south again. At least, she thought this direction was south.  She managed to crush the compass that she brought with her during the attack, and she could not be certain it was actually pointing her in the right direction.  Her body was still very weak with hunger. But she dragged herself slowly and steadily through the night.

As the sun began to rise past the horizon to her left, she felt more confident in her set direction. But as it climbed higher, a groan formed deep in her throat, anticipating the intense heat that would come by mid day. She was too weak. There was no way she was going to be able to withstand more heat and sun. She sat down to rest again. She needed the shade of another cloudy day, yet there was not a cloud in sight.

Frustrated, Ororo clapped her hands together in anger. And as if on command, as soon as the clap sounded, a dark storm cloud clawed out across the atmosphere again. Ororo looked up in surprise. Then she looked down at her hands. She laughed. Another fortuitous coincidence...

Less than a mile away, the same group of nomads was packing up their camp as they nervously looked up at the sudden appearance of a single angry dark cloud in the sky.  Their leader motioned for the rest of the caravan to speed up.  “We need to start moving quickly. It could be bad luck to cross the path of this powerful witch.”

...Ororo continued south with the cloud looming over her and providing shade. She had convinced herself that this was normal weather though after a few hours of the cloud staying just around her, it was quite apparent that this was more than just weather.

When she became thirsty, she craved rain and then rain came from the dark cloud, providing her with plenty of drinking water. When her legs became tired and she could not walk any further, she wished intensely for a gust of wind to pick her up and carry her. And just like that she felt herself lifted and tossed forward.

She giggled as she floated and spun through the gusts and funnels created around her. She moved her arms as though weaving patterns in the atmosphere. Her long white braids twisting, tossing the matted sand collected on its woven strands.

She wondered about this new gift, which seemed to give her power over the weather.  Before she lived as a thief in Cairo, she had lived with her parents for almost seven years until they were killed in a plane crash.  Her father was from Harlem NY and her mother was from a tribe who lived on the southwestern border of Kenya.  The place where Ororo was headed.  

Ororo's mother also had the strange white hair and blue eyes that had made Ororo a target for the very worst teasing as a young child.  Against her dark chestnut brown skin, her hair and eyes were even more stunning, and she was often told she looked like she was possessed by a demon.  She hated her hair and eyes for most of her life, but then suddenly, her rare features became the best thing that ever happened to her.  

A few months back she was approached by an old woman who claimed to be an oracle from the south.  The old woman told her that she came from a long line of priestesses, who had the potential for powerful magic.  The oracle warned her that she must leave Cairo and journey south to the location of her tribe in order to discover her true destiny.  If she stayed too long in Cairo, she would fall further under the influence of an entity called the shadow king.  An evil being who already watched over her closely.

Skeptical at first, Ororo spent some time researching her mother's tribe and the bloodline that gave her these rare features.  She soon found that even in Egypt, the power of Ororo's bloodline was well known.  It was rumored that their skills with healing were incomparable.  They could even heal paralysis or bring a man back from the brink of death.  Already fourteen, Ororo had not demonstrated any of these skills.  Neither had her mother. But maybe this power over the weather was proof that she did have a talent with another type of magic.

As the sun set again for the night, Ororo came across a settling encampment of nomads. She kept her distance, hiding behind one of the deeper sand dunes. Maybe they had food that she could steal once they fell asleep.

She realized quickly these were not ordinary nomads. The night watch held an automatic weapon and wore an armored vest under his cloak. Even with her proficient skills as street thief,  Ororo was not sure this was worth the risk. But she had not eaten in over a week, and she saw them pull out large cans of food and dried meat.  This was the first and maybe the only opportunity she would have to eat.

Sighing, she rolled on to her back and looked up at the night sky. She needed some sort of cover. Otherwise, the lookout would surely see her as she attempted to approach the camp. Her thoughts came to life, as a thick fog settled around her and spread out towards the campsite.

Mischievously, she smiled as she followed the settling mist, protected in the more concentrated area of precipitate. She heard the lookout making some nervous chatter as he noticed the mystically sprawling fog. But she did not understand his language, and it was apparent he could not see her and was too afraid to search for the dark entity that he thought was the source.

As she entered the camp, she cleared the fog around her just enough to search for the supplies.  Grabbing an arm full of cans of beans and a chunk of the dried meat as she came across their food. She took off her shirt to create a makeshift sac to place her items inside. As she continued to shift through the nomad’s goods, she came across a sac with something very large inside. She pushed at it and it moved in response. There were two large air holes cut into the burlap but it was tied at the top. 

Ororo moved back slightly. Was it some sort of live animal? She pushed at it again and a muffled sound came from inside. It sounded human.

She hesitated for a moment.  What if the person was in this sac because he or she was dangerous?  Then she thought about the lookout with the automatic weapon and the armored vest.  It was more likely this person was in danger.  Sighing, she finally decided to help.

Putting down her food, she moved closer to the sac and undid the knot. Pushing back the cloth, the head of a teenage boy appeared. He had a gag around his mouth and he looked at her with wide fearful brown eyes.

Not wasting a moment more, Ororo helped the boy out of the sac quickly and undid the bindings around his wrists and ankles. Last she removed the gag, placing her finger to her lips to hush him. She whispered, “Follow close behind me.”

She picked up her goods and took the boy’s hand leading him back the way she came. But Ororo had been concentrating so hard on the boy that she did not notice that her fog cover was letting up.

A nomad who came out of a tent to relieve himself yelled. “HEY! THE PRINCE IS TRYING TO ESCAPE!”

Ororo grabbed hold of the boy’s hand even tighter and yanked him behind her as she ran. He was about two heads taller than her with a much sturdier frame, but he allowed her to drag him.  He still appeared to be in shock while Ororo’s adrenaline was pumping hard.

Two unfortunate men came at them from either side and were hit by the crack of lightning. More lightning struck at the tents causing them to catch fire, while funnels of violent winds tore through the scattering kidnappers. Those who had any grasp on their thoughts were yelling, “The witch! It's the witch!”, in their language.

Ororo pulled the boy out into the desert until her legs gave in, and she was satisfied that they were far enough away from the kidnappers. Then she collapsed onto her back to catch her breath. Her companion sat down next to her, still not uttering a word.

Realizing she finally had food, Ororo sat up and started digging through her goods, slowly chewing some of the dried meat. She knew she would get sick if she ate too much too fast.  But now that the crisis was over, she remembered that her stomach was cramping with hunger pains.

“So what’s your name, kid?” Ororo asked in between bites. The boy just stared at her with a look of embarrassed horror on his face. She could tell something was wrong with him, but she couldn’t figure out what. Then she looked down and realized that she had taken off her shirt to carry the food, and she was only in a bra. She shrugged and put her shirt back on. At least she had on pants. “Do you speak English?”

The boy nodded but still did not utter a word.

“So? What’s your name then? I’m Ororo Munroe.” She held out her hand for him to shake.

The boy took it hesitantly before saying in a soft voice, “my name is T’challa… thank you for helping me.”

“You’re welcome.” Ororo smiled at him. Finally, he shyly smiled back.  She pointed to the food.  “Eat something. I’m sure those men haven’t been feeding you well.”

“Or, at all.” T’challa replied, taking some of the meat.

“So where are you from T’challa?” Ororo asked. “Why did those men have you tied up in a sac?”

T’challa stopped chewing and said, “I’m from Wakanda.”

“Never heard of Wakanda."  Ororo frowned.  "Where is it?”

“South of here. On Kenya's southwestern border.” T’challa replied. “My father is the king of Wakanda… those men wanted to sell me to one of his enemies.”

“Wow!” Ororo said, her blue eyes opening wide with amazement. “So that makes you a prince then??”

Laughing lightly, T’challa reached over and brushed some of the sand off of Ororo’s astonished face.  Then he pulled his hand back shyly, realizing he might have been too bold.  He said, “You are a funny girl, Ororo. With everything you can do and as powerful as you are, you are impressed that I am a prince of an unknown country.”

Ororo paused for a second, realizing for the first time just how handsome this shy boy named, T’challa, actually was. And now he was looking at her as if she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Ororo swallowed hard.

She had plenty of male friends while she worked as a street thief in Cairo. She even had a crush on an older boy who acted as second to their leader, Amahl Farouk. But in her fourteen years, she had never felt the reciprocation of this type of attraction. She could feel the blood rushing to her face.

Embarrassed, she lowered her eyes and said, “We should finish up so we can get some rest. I’m headed towards Kenya too. We can travel together.”

T'challa nodded laying back on the sand and closing his eyes.  Ororo lay down next to him and looked up at the sky.  Her luck was finally changing.

* * *

 

Ororo and T'challa traveled for days in the south eastern direction before they finally crossed from the sandy sahara desert into the rich grassy plains of South Sudan.   Ororo continued to provide them with the shade and rain that they needed as T'challa showed her how to search for the few edible plants in this portion of the desert and caught snakes for them to eat. 

Once they reached the plains, T'challa fashioned a long wooden spear and set up traps, which he used to kill hares and other small animals.  They began to take their drinking water from streams instead of Ororo's gift over the weather, so they did not draw too much attention to themselves.  They avoided cities or villages, sticking to the bush where there were less people, as much as possible. T'challa worried that his kidnappers were still looking for them, and in this region, there were people who knew who he was and how valuable he might be as a hostage.

They spent most of the rest of the days, traveling and talking about... everything.  Ororo discovered that T'challa was very smart and well educated, whereas she had not gone to formal school since her parents died seven years ago.  He was taught as a child how to survive out on the savannah with very little, and he patiently taught Ororo to hunt and to forge.  When they were forced to enter a village or a crowded large city, Ororo taught T'challa how to blend in and how to barter with the street vendors to obtain the supplies that they needed.  And when they encountered strangers who took an interest in them, she always knew exactly how to talk their way out of any situation.  As a result, they quickly learned to depend on each other. And soon, Ororo became as infatuated with T'challa as he was with her.   

After another week and a half, they finally reached the border of Kenya and they began to slow their pace, taking their time and extending the length of their trip.  

One evening, Ororo sat next to T'challa eating a fish that she proudly caught earlier in the day.   They had found a quiet and secluded spot near a stream where they could set up camp and T'challa taught her how to catch a fish.  After several hours of trying, she finally caught one to the four large fish that T'challa caught.  But she also managed to slip and fall into the water, drenching all of her clothes.   Still, she had done it on her own.  So she did not mind so much, getting wet.

Now she shivered in her damp clothes against the cool night air.  So T'challa moved closer to her, placing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his body in order to keep her warm.  She put the last of the fish in her mouth and then leaned into him curling herself up inside of his arms.  He commented,  "We don't have much further to go."

"Yes. I know." Ororo replied looking up at him.  Her voice sounded disappointed.  "I wish we could stay here by this stream... just the two of us forever.  Maybe... maybe I don't need to find my mother's village... and you don't have to return to Wakanda.  Maybe we could stay here together."

T'challa looked down on Ororo.  She could not read his expression.  A mixture of emotions was crossing his face, none of which suggested that he was about to agree.  "I have to return to my country.  I'm the only one who can become king after my father."

Looking away, Ororo felt the pain of disappoint strike the pit of her stomach.  During the time she spent with T'challa, she was the happiest she had been since she lost her parents.  She was not ready for it to end.  She looked down at her hands clinched in fists in her lap.

Now she felt his hand rest on her chin, lifting her face back up towards his face.  He leaned down further, pulling her in closer and kissing her on the lips.  The kiss lingered for several seconds, desperately locking them together for as long as possible.  They hungrily memorized each other, wanting more but knowing that was not wise.

T'challa pulled back first, his fingers gently brushing white strands of hair from Ororo's face.  "I have to fulfill my duty to my people, but I won't forget you."

"This is only temporary.  We'll see each other again."  T'challa stated firmly.  "My mother says Bast always places people in your heart for a reason."

Ororo nodded and she lay her head against his chest.  They clung to each other for the rest of night, neither one willing to let the other one go.

Days later, the two companions reached the Serengeti and the village of Ororo's people, and T'challa parted ways to head further west across the Jabari mountains into Wakanda.

Ororo was warmly greeted by the villagers.  They recognized the treasured features of her white hair and blue eyes which were stripped from the village when Ororo's mother left to marry her father.  She was adopted by one of the older priestesses, Aindet, and her powers over the weather were soon revealed.  

Word of Ororo's powers spread quickly to neighboring villages and those around her began to worship her as a goddess of rain.  Many of the neighboring tribes came to Ororo's home to bring gifts, so she would bring the rain needed for their crops. But no one dared to stay too long for fear that they might anger her and become the target of her wrath.  This type of reverence isolated Ororo significantly, and though she had her adoptive mother, she had no friends.  She often found herself alone and depressed, fantasizing about the time that she spent with T'challa out in the desert.

One day several years later, the oracle, who first approached her in Egypt, appeared at her doorstep again.  Ororo was surprised but happy to see her, opening the door and ushering her into the small house.

Resting herself in a chair at the table, the old woman stated,  "I've come back to bring the second half of your reading."

"Ok. Well tell me, oracle." Ororo sighed.  "Now that I've found my destiny, will I be alone forever or will I ever find someone... anyone, who sees me just as a woman?"

"You've only found the first half of your destiny.  By freeing yourself and finding your home, you have just opened the door to the beginning of your journey."  The old woman replied.  She took Ororo's hand.  "The power that you found in the desert will lead you to the ones who will see you as an equal and will eventually become your greatest allies and friends.  Do not run from it and do not regret it.  And the love that you found will eventually lead you back to the man who you will eventually marry one day.  Never forget it.  I've come back to remind you to be patient.  All good things come in due time, my little storm." 

 

 

 

 


End file.
